How a Tiny Curry House Became the Post-Club Hangout for Manchester DJs

According to Danny "Fallacy" Fahey, a London-born MC who now runs a leadership programme for young men in Manchester, Al Madina is an institution. It was Chunky from the LEVELZ art and music collective who introduced him to the takeaway, which sits on the city's famous Curry Mile.

"He walked in, shouted 'Bossman!' to the guvnor and I just knew it was the spot," remembers Fahey.

The takeaway's position as a favourite among the city's leading bass music tastemakers could seem at odds with its ethos of serving only authentic Asian home cooking-style dishes to a largely Muslim clientele. Not that anyone really minds.

"The best was with Murkage Dave and SMITH from Tonga Balloon Gang," Fahey continues. "SMITH is the very whitest man in a geezer-versus-hipster sort of way, so naturally decides he wants to order egg and chips instead of a kebab. Bossman was patient with him but I could see his patience running out."

It's the middle of Ramadan when I arrive at Al Madina in the early hours of a Sunday morning. The takeaway is so busy that not only can you not get a seat inside, but customers are brazenly taking their plates to the tables belonging to the place next door, which isn't half as rammed.

"It's better than going to Kansas," 19-year-old student Muhammad tells me when I ask why he chose Al Madina for his post-prayers meal.

"What's wrong with Kansas?' I ask of the nearby fried chicken restaurant.

"It's delicious, but it's not clean food like here," he says.

"Everything is fresh," interjects Marcus, a Bollywood promoter, before introducing me to Al Madina's manager, Arshad, who I recognise as the "Bossman" from Fallacy's stories. He tells me the takeaway has been going for 17 years with little change to the recipes. The quality isn't lost on Samrai, who drops by after a night at nearby bar Soup Kitchen, telling me that "Al Madina's amazing as the staff are sound and the food's always great, especially the fish karahi and soft chapatis."

The chapatis are what chef Ahmed is especially proud of, explaining that during the annual month of fasting, it's particularly important that they taste outstanding. Rihav, a 25-year-old biomedical science student is observing Ramadan too, and has popped in for a meal after smoking shisha with her friend Arisha. They order chicken jalfrezi, while I peruse the menu.

After getting two onion bhajis to start, followed by my own jalfrezi, I sit down and get talking to another group. Nahari has been coming to Al Madina for 15 years, but only recently learned that the manager is actually his next-door neighbour.

"He's always at work so I never saw him," Nahari says, which is no wonder when the place is open 18 hours a day.

Al Madina's early morning close is arguably one of the reasons it's so popular among musicians. From Murlo to Chimpo, I've found myself sitting next to my favourite DJs and producers, not quite believing my luck when stopping by after raving in places like Antwerp Mansion, located just behind the Curry Mile.

As local DJ Madam X once told me, Al Madina has "become so standard after a night out, it's part of the clubbing experience." Gold Teeth's Two-One even describes it as "Manchester's Waffle House—quality food and quality people, no matter what rave you just played, you all end up at Al Mad's."

It's not just Manchester-based musicians who love the takeaway.

"Al Madina is probably one of my most loved spots on the Mile," says Bristol-hailing Bandulu Records producer Boofy. "If I've been booked to play out or just on my way back to crash, there's about a 90 percent chance I'm in a cab heading towards there for lamb chops or the traditional lamb curry. Big People Music showed me the lamb chop hype, but props to Commodo for the curry tip off. He drove from Sheffield once because he wanted their food. That's love."

Indeed, word of mouth is how most people seem to find out about the modest-looking looking takeaway. From John, an airport worker who got wind of the place from a taxi driver to Rihav, who was recommended Al Mad's curries by a uni friend, the place seems to have a great reputation outside of the music world too.

Indeed, Nadia has taken fellow doctor Ank to Al Madina for the first time this evening after finishing her shift at Manchester Royal Infirmary down the road. Ank, who used to be a hip-hop and R&B DJ in Manchester before pursuing medicine, can understand the appeal for musicians. "It's unassuming," he says.

"Can we take a picture?" I ask when I spot one of my DJ friends coming in a little bit later—a resident at Manchester's Hidden night.

"No," he says, "I believe DJs should be allowed to remain anonymous."

The cheeky grin on his face makes me think he's winding me up, but I leave it. Perhaps this is the beauty of Al Madina. The staff certainly have no idea who the DJs I namecheck are, and indeed, neither do most of the other customers, providing the perfect atmosphere for a post-gig readjustment back to the real world.

All photos by Vic Mac Mahon.